Where No Man Has Gone Before
by Sue Pokorny
Summary: Not all hunts are dangerous. Some are just weird. Just a little fluff to make you chuckle...


**First of all I humbly apologize for what follows. It was just stuck in my head, getting in the way of more important things. So, here it is. It's probably not as humorous as I think it is, but at least it's out in the open where it can now die an honorable death and leave me alone.**

**Where No Man Has Gone Before…**

"You have got to be kidding me." Dean Winchester leaned forward against the steering wheel, his eyes following the group of people slowly passing in the crosswalk in front of the black Impala. He shook his head slowly as one of the young men dressed in a bright blue polyester shirt and black pants held up a hand, four fingers parted in a 'V'. "This is just a whole other level of weird."

Sam grinned at the group as it stepped onto the far sidewalk, leaving the road clear for the big black car to proceed. "Aw, come on, Dean. Lighten up. I think this hunt could be fun."

Dean gave him a look of sheer horror as he turned the Chevy into a parking lot and killed the engine. "Of course you like it," he mumbled. He pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the driver's side door. "It's like a geekboy Halloween spectacular in June."

The younger man chuckled as he climbed out of the passenger side of the car. "Dean, every little town in the Midwest has an community festival like this."

Dean slammed the door and waved a hand at the throngs of people wandering around, dressed in outfits that looked like they came from outer space – or the sixties version of outer space. "I know that, but come on, Sam! Star Trek? Isn't that a just little out there even in our world of weird?"

Sam shrugged and leaned his arms across the top of the car. "This is Riverside, Iowa, Dean. Apparently a few years back they petitioned Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek to allow their town to be considered the future birthplace of Captain James T. Kirk. Since it had already been stated that Kirk came from Iowa, Roddenberry gave them his blessing." He pointed to a large granite plague set in the ground near the barbershop across the street. "See? March 22, 2228." He read the date off the plaque before turning back to his brother. "The place is historical."

"You do know Captain Kirk is a fictitious character, right?"

"Maybe," Sam grinned, enjoying his brother's annoyance. "But they have two hundred and twenty years to prove you wrong."

"Look mommy! The batmobile!"

Both brothers' attention shifted to a young boy who was doggedly attempting to pull a young, harried looking woman across the parking lot toward them. The boy's mouth was wide in a look of awe and his expressive blue eyes were fixated on the shiny black Impala.

Sam couldn't help the snort of laughter that burst from his lips as he turned to his brother who was regarding the kid with a somewhat confused frown. The mother smiled an apology and deftly turned the child's interest toward one of the many confection vendors along the town square, heading off the catastrophe of small child and classic car. As soon as the danger had passed, Dean raised his eyes to his chuckling brother and shrugged. "See, Sammy?" he said with a bemused smile. " I _am_ Batman."

"Right, Dean." Sam couldn't help but grin at the expression of innocent delight on his brother's face. To Sam, that expression always managed to make his tough-as-nails big brother seem all of four years old. "You're Batman."

Nodding his head firmly in response, Dean pocketed the keys and walked around the car, falling in step with his brother as they joined the crowd moving along the booths set up along the square.

"So, Spock, tell me again why we've been beamed down to this nerd fest?" His head swiveled as his eyes followed a pair of scantily clad women with white-blonde hair, their shapely forms covered entirely in blue body paint.

"The local paper reported a series of suspicious accidents that seem to occur every year right around the time of the festival," Sam explained in an annoyed tone of voice, trying to bring his brother's wandering attention back to the original hunt. "The accidents seemed to start in 1985 which is when the town first decided to use this whole Star Trek theme for it's annual festival."

Dean grunted as the women disappeared from view and turned back to his brother. "So, what, you think some local spirit didn't like the idea of the entire town gone 'Trek' and started making it's opinion known?"

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "The town was founded by a man named Nathaniel McClure. Apparently he ran some kind of stopover for stagecoach travelers called McClure's Halfway House. From what few articles I could find, he was a very devout Christian and frowned upon anything that was considered frivolous or gay." At Dean's look of surprise, he held up a hand. "Not that kind of 'gay', Dean. It was a term that meant happy and… well…"

"Gay?"

"Yeah."

"So, we're looking at a simple salt and burn?"

Sam shrugged again. "Pretty sure. One of the victims described him to a 'T'."

"Of course the crack local law enforcement thought the victim was crazy, right?"

"More like semi-delusional," Sam agreed. "Anyway, I already talked to Mr. Walker – the victim – on the phone, and he swears it was McClure. He recognized him from a picture on some founding father's plaque in the town center. Lucky for us, McClure was buried right here in the town cemetery, but if it is his spirit causing the problems, it's not gonna be easy digging him up with all these people around."

"They've got to sleep sometime, right? I mean this can't last till dawn. Even Trekkies need to close their nerdy little eyes at some point, Sammy."

"Hopefully," Sam conceded. "But until then?"

Dean smiled, tilting his head toward the two blue ladies that had suddenly reappeared at the far end of the square, both flashing smiles at the pair of hunters. "Until then, Sammy, we blend with the local color." He slapped his brother on the shoulder, his eyebrows dancing as he grinned toward the women. "And right now, little brother, my favorite color is blue."

"I thought you said everyone here is a whole other level of weird?"

Dean turned toward his brother even as he started walking backwards in the direction of the two women. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You have got to stop being such a snob. Even geeks need a little love now and again – even if they are dressed as Andorians." With a grin, he quickly turned and began to wind his way through the crowd.

Sam stood, hands on hips, lips pursed into a scowl. "I'm a snob?" he muttered under his breath. He shook his head, stopping suddenly as an extremely odd thought struck him. Looking up, his eyes caught his brother's as the older hunter began to disappear into the crowd. "Dean! Wait! How did you know they were Andorians?"

The End

_Again, my apologies for this little piece of drivel. But I chuckled. Hope you did, too!_


End file.
